The Pretty Dreamer
by softasthunder
Summary: And she just can't breathe, and maybe, maybe, her heart isn't breaking. This is all just a horrible, disgusting nightmare.


**Disclaimer: I do not**** own any original Life With Derek characters that may appear in this story.**

**Claimer: The remainder of this story including: plot, dialogue, & OC characters, is my original work.**

**No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without my express written authorization.**

I got inspiration for this by two dark fics; Ashes To Ashes by D R O W N-I-N-S E Q U I N S & something else I can't remember, so I'm really sorry but it's basically about Casey going insane with jealous over Demily& she takes a gun, kills Emily& has Derek kisses her to which he says "I would have kissed you anyway." then she gets taken away. So yeah. That's it. I hope you like it; it's my first real Dark fic. &it doesn't help that Invader Zim is on haha.

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><p><strong>The Pretty Dreamer - A Life With Derek Fanfiction<strong>

And she just can't breathe, and maybe, maybe, her heart isn't breaking. This is all just a horrible, disgusting nightmare.

_(But she forgets that so is reality.)_

Months later, she thinks it can't be possibly get any worse than it is now, but when has she ever been the lucky one _(oh no, that only belongs to _her._) _

He tosses her a wink and a nervous grin, her stomach starts aching, and when he gets down on one knee (just like in _her_ fucking dreams) it's twisting into itself and by the time her _bestest friend ever _is on her knees with him, crying and nodding, she needs to throw up.

Excusing herself she ignores the pityingly glances. When she reaches the restroom she's stumbling (because she's so fucking goddamn _drunk and this is just a horrible, disgusting dream)_ and the walls should at least be supporting her not suffocating her _and _she can just see them with her new _super duper cool X-Ray vision! _

By the time she hits the mirror; she's clutching the sink and vomiting round, discolored chucks. She tastes her upper lip and doesn't even cringe at the yellowing-oh-god-help smell but looks up in the mirror and carefully reapplies her facade.

He spins her around the wedding and for a moment she can let herself pretend since hey, she's already been fucked over and twisted so what difference does it fucking make right?

_(She was already bleeding in rock bottom anyway.)_

He thanks her for being an amazing best friend, and did she forget to tell you? Yeah, after they broke up he wanted to still be friends, and so, oh-so-lucky-her became his second fucking best friend. It's not like she isn't grateful she at least means something, but it just hurts more because she has to see them with a smile while breaking into tiny little pieces inside.

She wants to scream until her lungs tear open and her heart finally bleeds out, and if she dies in process that's even better because _she just wants to go away. _This hurt the constant ache in her stomach and face from all the faux smiles and longing glances, she _craves _it to go away; even if she dies in the process.

_(Why was her best friend better than her?)_

But she can't.

She smiles and accepts it, closing her eyes and just letting him intoxicate her senses and for a moment she can keep pretending that it's her wearing that beautiful cream dress and he's holding her differently and speaking different words with a different love. That one day she's _finally _wake up from this horrible, disgusting nightmare.

_(But, she faintly remembers, reality has never been pretty for her.)_

She wants to break him. Cut him into little pieces, shatter him, watch him as he's on his knees begging for forgiveness. She wants to take that pretty cookie cutting set they bought her and _Luke _and chop him up scatter them away from her (only to find herself putting them in her pocket.)

She knows it's sick.

They're in love and she should be happy for them; her _two bestest fucking friends _ever, married and in love! It was beautiful, amazing, wonderful, oh so fucking fantastic. And honestly (but when has she ever been honest?) why wouldn't it be? The twirling of the bride, that would never be her, the sharp twist of her cream _(not white, never white) _dress gracing the floor, the sortofalmost softness "clickity click" of the high heels, even though yours horribly, the best friend in like _ever,_ wasn't even wearing shoes, the dark tint the men's suits brought and shadowed over the hall.

_(They were in love.)_

Even if she loved him, loved him for her whole life and even after, she wouldn't get him or anything. She wouldn't get that fairly tale ending they both use to gush over, but instead her best friend would get the happily ever after with her famous director and ex-college hockey star husband that was supposed to be hers.

She was his best friend too, so after the vows she threw up again but this time instead of a stuttered apology she came out all smiles (and who says she can't act? She's the greatest of them all).

Somewhere in high school she forgot that he was the director, not an actor. And when she forgot that he not only wrote all the shit, but approved them, she laughed until she cried, drowning herself in another glass of Scotch.

But it had always been like that with Derek; they were all just actors on a stage, dolls for him to play with until he bored himself _(besides it wasn't like she was bleeding on the floor or going to wake up from this nightmare anytime soon.)_

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><p>Just letting you guys know that this is all Emily's POV, it's actually Casey that Derek fell in love with here.<p> 


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